If Only
by River of Broken Souls
Summary: Whatever your soulmate writes on their arm, will appear on yours, with only one rule. You are not allowed to directly communicate through this method in order to find each other. However, nothing was ever said about using someone else's arm as a way of speaking to someone you've never met before. (Focuses on One-sided AmeCan, with slight Prucan) Fully summary inside -Complete-
1. Chapter 1

_Whatever your soulmate may write on their arm, will appear on yours, with only one rule. You are not allowed to directly communicate through this method in order to find each other. However, nothing was ever said about using someone else's arm as a way of communication to someone you've never met. On a drunken night with his friend passed out in front of him, Alfred decides to see if he can talk to Gilbert's soulmate. He soon learns of "Matthew," the boy on the other end, and the two kick off right away. When the tree of them finally meet however, Alfred realizes how stupid he's been. Matthew was always Gilbert's soulmate, never his. (Focuses on One sided Amecan, with slight Prucan)_

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 **Howdy everyone! I've decided to actually write a multi-chapter fic for once. Granted, it'll be quite short, I'm still pretty proud of it. For now, I'm expecting around 3 chapters, but that may change. This was also written for the Caesar's Palace Soulmate AU contest, and inspiration for this fic came from this tumblr post:** kpopboysarebetter .tumblr post/ 142756530279/ so-considering-im-pretty-well-bedridden-today-and

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia or any of the Characters featured in the work.

 **Anyways, please review, favourite and follow if you want, and as always, enjoy!**

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Alfred, though young, was quite able to tell when he had drank enough. Of course, he didn't always stop afterwards, but he was well aware of his own limitations.

It appeared however, that Gilbert was not.

Frankly, this surprised the American. Out of the two of them, it was Gilbert who would usually last the longest. Hell, Alfred would wake up with a pounding headache, no memory of the night before, and the albino would still have a mug to his lips. Alfred wouldn't be surprised if Gilbert had the highest alcohol tolerance in the world. This is why he was so surprised to see the German passed out on his kitchen table.

His friends face was pressed up against the cool stone, snow-white hair falling limply around his ears. His mug lay just to the side, half full, as if Gilbert had barely been able to move it out of the way before collapsing, his slender fingers still wrapped around the handle. His other arm lay outstretched with his wrist facing upwards. Soft sighs would leave his lips every once in a while.

Alfred let his gaze linger over his friend for another moment before leaning back. A smile graced his lips as he brought his mug upwards, relishing in the fact that he had finally been able to outlast the German. However his little "victory party" was cut short as he noticed something out of the corner of his eyes.

Black little swirls were beginning to form on Gilbert's left wrist, gliding smoothly over his skin as the German slept, completely oblivious to the forming shapes. For a moment, Alfred's mind went almost completely blank, focusing on one plausible cause for these shapes.

Ghosts.

Almost dropping the mug, he scrambled away from his chair. Frantically, he pushed himself against the wall, an attempt to hide himself from the spirit. His breaths came in heavy ragged gasps, crystal blue eyes wide in fear. However, the little black swirls continued to form, oblivious to his outburst.

Curiosity outweighing uncertainty, Alfred crept forwards, placing his mug on the table so as not to drop it. Gentle fingers reached out and wrapped themselves around the German's wrist, bringing it closer to examine. The swirls continued to form, and Alfred's jaw dropped open when he finally realized why.

Somewhere in this world, perhaps in a different state or even a different country, someone else was drawing little swirls on their wrist. And because of the unbreakable bond between this stranger and Alfred's passed out friend, the little swirls would appear on Gilbert's wrist as well.

Alfred could always remember the stories read in elementary. If you ever wrote something on your arm, the exact same would appear on that of your soulmate's. No one knew why, for science couldn't explain it. If the one you were destined to be with drew a pen across their skin, you would be able to see it too.

With what was left working in Alfred's mostly drunk mind, he determined that there were in fact no ghosts in his house, but the swirls were due to Gilbert's soulmate. The young man contemplated whether or not to wake his friend, but in the end decided against it. Gilbert slept like a log. It would be almost impossible to wake him even for a moment. So instead, he just watched.

After a few minutes however, Alfred felt the familiar weight of utter boredom fall upon him. Would it kill Gilbert's soulmate to draw something other than swirls for once? It was getting quite repetitive. As if by just thinking it, his prayers were answered. A pen lay on the kitchen counter, and an idea popped into Alfred's mind. A stupid one, yes, but the drunk young man could not care less.

And so, he reached out and grabbed the pen.

"Hey!"

His words were quite messy, scribbled quickly on his friend's wrist. Like he had expected, the swirls stopped suddenly, as if someone had lifted away their pen when they were only half finished. However, after a few minutes, no response came. Narrowing his eyes, Alfred tried again.

"Hello?"

He waited, sure that words would soon shimmer to life on his friends arm. However, they did not, leaving the American slightly confused, and well as angry. As a last resort attempt, he began to write.

"I know that you're there! Answer me!"

As expected, no words formed afterwards, leaving the American confused. Frowning, he dropped the pen, allowing it to fall on the table with a small _clunk._ Reaching over, he wrapped his fingers around his mug once more, bringing it to his lips .The rest of the frothy liquid disappeared as he gulped down what was left. Soon after, he stood, making way to the fridge in search of more. However, something stopped him.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

The words appeared on his friend's forearm almost suddenly, slightly shocking Alfred. Containing himself, he placed his mug back on the table, and grabbed friend's wrist. Alfred scanned over the writing, slightly squinting through his black frames in order to read the small yet neat cursive writing which had appeared. However, once he did, confusion fell upon him.

"What do you mean?"

Alfred scribbled the words haphazardly. Thankfully, he only waited a moment before the reply shimmered to life in front of his eyes.

"It's bad luck to talk to your soulmate before you meet them."

Realization swept through him, and Alfred couldn't help but laugh. Of course! It was always said to never speak to your soulmate through this strange connection. It wasn't a hard rule or anything, but largely believed upon. If you tried to get in contact with your soulmate before fate decided to bring you together, bad luck would soon befall you. The other person obviously thought Alfred was his soulmate, and with good reason too. It was Gilbert's arm for goodness sake! Inwardly he punched himself for not realizing it earlier, but a wide smile still lay across his lips.

"Oh god, I'm sorry! I probably gave you a heart attack there. I however, am sadly not your soulmate. Your actual soulmate is currently passed out on my kitchen table, his dick of a friend deciding it would be a great idea to write on his arm."

Still smiling, Alfred drew back, awaiting the response.

"Oh thank God."

The words soon appeared, and Alfred felt his smile grow even wider. Quickly, he wrote his reply.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Anyways, what's your name? I'm Alfred!"

"Matthew."

"Matthew? That sounds nice. Why exactly were you scribbling little swirls on my friend's arm?"

The response took a bit longer, but soon the words shimmered to life.

"Bored I guess."

Alfred raised his eyebrow slightly, but said nothing.

"Okay. Hey, I was wondering if-"

Alfred jumped, his final letter left trailing across Gilbert's arm. Speaking of the German, he had begun to stir, mumbling incoherent words as his eyelids began to flutter open. Realizing that he only had a few seconds to act, Alfred grabbed his friends arm tightly, earning a sound that may have been confusion from his friend.

"Gil, just go back to sleep 'K? It's late, and you're drunk. You need the rest."

Thankfully, the albino seemed to understand. Either that, or he had simply passed out again. Alfred was betting on the second. Releasing his friend's forearm, he realized Matthew had written to him.

"Alfred? You okay?"

Smiling, Alfred quickly wrote out his reply.

"All good dude! Gil just woke up for a moment, so I had to get him back to sleep. Speaking of which, I should be heading to bed shortly as well."

He didn't realize what he had said until the reply shimmered to life.

"Gil? Him? You know, I was hoping to have somewhat of a surprise when I met my soulmate."

"Shit…"

"It's fine. Anyway, you said you needed to sleep?"

"Yup."

"Well, Goodnight then."

"Night dude!"

With that, the pen was placed on the counter. A wide smile still lay upon Alfred's lips (perhaps because of the alcohol, or because of something more, he could not tell). His eyes turned over to where his friend was once again unconscious, and a smirk formed. He now had knowledge that Gilbert did not, and he expected to keep it that way.

Speaking of which….

How the hell was he supposed to wash the pen off his arm?

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 **Allrighty! I expect the next update to be out at around Wednesday, so look forwards to that.**

 **Hope to see you at the next update!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Recently I've started watching an anime called Yuri! on Ice, and Oh my god it's amazing!**

 **Definitely check it out if you have the time.**

 **As for today's chapter, I do hope you enjoy!**

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As expected, Gilbert could remember nothing from the night before, something which Alfred was grateful for. However, he couldn't exactly talk with this new "Matthew" while his friend was somewhat conscious. Frankly, he wouldn't even be able to talk with Matthew even if Gilbert was asleep.

You see Alfred, though young, was quite able to tell when he had drank enough. However, that didn't always mean he'd stop afterwards.

And this time, he went way overboard.

For now, he'd be stuck in the same boat as Gilbert. Hung-over with a pounding headache, regretting whatever decisions had led him to this point.

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It was a few days after the incident that Alfred attempted to speak with Matthew again. Unfortunately, he was forced to wait. Though Gilbert would visit often, it was nearly impossible to catch him in an unconscious state similar to what he had been initially. Alfred would have to wait until Gilbert fell asleep.

However, at 2:00 in the morning, the German was still wide awake. It was at this point that the American began to realize the flaws in his plan. He also began to realize that his eyelids were becoming heavier.

A small nap wouldn't hurt would it?

He woke to the sunlight filtering though his curtains, the sound of birdsong in his ears. It took him a few moments to figure out where exactly he was, and another few to remember why. Soon, the pieces fell together, and the American realized he had lost a chance to speak with Matthew.

However, it appeared that even if he had managed to stay awake it wouldn't have made a difference. Somehow, Gilbert was still awake, a magazine in his hands.

Honestly, Alfred wasn't the least bit surprised.

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It took another three days until Alfred finally caught Gilbert asleep. His friend was currently passed out on the couch, the combination of warm hot cocoa and boring afternoon television had put the German to sleep almost instantly. Alfred now lay just beside his friend, a pen in-between his fingers. He reached forwards, grabbed his friend's wrist, and began to write.

"Hey Matthew, you there?"

Alfred pulled away, realizing almost at once that Matthew may not be present. He could be asleep, or perhaps unable to see his arm due to a sweater. For some reason, this made Alfred anxious. Thankfully, he was calmed down almost immediately.

"Hello! You're Alfred, right?"

The American sighed with relief, quickly jotting down a reply.

"Yup! Sorry for waiting so long, it was hard to catch Gil when he's asleep."

"Hmm. So it's late where you are then?"

"Nah, it's only around 3:00 in the afternoon. Why?"

"3:00?"

"I mean yeah dude, that's what I wrote."

"Interesting."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he began to write his reply.

"How so?"

"Do you perhaps live in the state of California?"

"You don't mean…"

"I think I do."

Alfred nearly dropped his pen. His blue eyes were open wide, a huge grin spread across his face. Based on the fact that Matthew spoke English, he had expected him to reside in the same country, though Canada wasn't out of the question either. However, he'd never even thought that Matthew could be in the same state. It was more than he could ever have hoped for.

"Dude! That's awesome!"

"I guess it is."

"We could've passed each other on the streets without ever realizing it. You and Gilbert may have even met before!"

"Don't get carried away Alfred. Besides, I don't live in any of the big cites, so I doubt we've ever met."

"If you don't live in any of the big cities, where do you live?"

"Just a small town about 30 minutes away from LA."

Alfred almost laughed.

"Well then my friend, simply take a 30 minute drive and we'll be here."

The reply took a bit longer that any of the others had, but the words soon shimmered to life on Gilbert's wrist.

"You have no idea how hard I'm fighting the urge to get into my car right now."

Alfred laughed.

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"Tell me more about Gilbert."

It was late, moonlight filtering in through the window shades and casting its glow upon the room. Gilbert lay asleep on the couch, his chest rising and falling in a regular pattern, soft sighs escaping his lips every so often. Alfred however, was wide awake, a smile upon his lips.

"He's an ass."

"Great…"

"Maybe I lied a little. He's a nice ass."

"How reassuring."

Alfred smiled.

"He's loud, obnoxious, short tempered, and has absolutely no social etiquette."

"Does he have good traits by any chance?"

"Just a few."

"Like?"

Alfred paused a moment. Soon a small smile fell upon his lips and he began to write.

"He's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. He'll give up anything to protect those he loves, and everything he does is with good intentions. You're so lucky that he's your soulmate."

"I can't wait to meet him."

"One day Mattie, one day."

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It had become part of his routine. Wake up, go to work, suffer through eight hours of excruciating labor, return home to the flat he and Gilbert shared, and keep watch for a time when he'd be able to talk with Matthew. That was how an average day went.

Alfred didn't know why Gilbert's soulmate meant so much to him. Matthew was just another person. To Gilbert, Matthew would be so much more than that, but not to Alfred. There was nothing that should draw Alfred attention towards him. He was Gilbert's soulmate. Alfred had his own.

However, Alfred had started to doubt that.

If you think that Alfred was a patient young man, one who would wait until fate brought his soulmate towards him, you'd be wrong. He'd attempted to talk to the person on the end of his connection many times. He'd stayed awake until the early hours of the morning, hoping to see any proof that his Soulmate existed.

There had been stories of people without Soulmates. Alfred's third grade teacher was without one, and Alfred did not want to end up like she did. Sad and Alone, no one there to comfort her when she needed it. It was truly the worst way to live. Alfred was young and naïve at the time. He thought that something like that could never happen to him. He would have a soulmate.

Somehow, Alfred felt as if he were trying to convince himself. He felt as if he was empty, just waiting for the right person to come and fill that gap, but that one person never came.

That was, until Matthew.

Now sure, he couldn't fill that gap completely. Matthew was not his Soulmate. However, the stranger on the other end of Gilbert's arm made everything just a bit more bearable. Made every day just a little bit brighter.

Alfred still knew that Matthew was not his Soulmate. He belonged to Gilbert. Matthew was just a friend. Matthew was just someone to fill that gapping whole in his heart, but sometimes the lines would blur. Just for a moment, Alfred would not know what Matthew was. A friend, or something more?

Alfred always convinced himself Matthew was just a friend, and for a while, that worked. However, it was getting more difficult to distinguish between that line. And so Alfred would speak with Matthew whenever possible, hoping to spend some time with him before he was ripped away again.

Alfred wanted Gilbert to be happy, and he wanted Matthew to be happy as well. He'd do anything to make sure that his closest friends remained with smiles upon their faces. What he didn't realize, was that his happiness was slowly draining away.

He'd sacrifice his own happiness just to make sure those around him could be happier than him.

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 **Another update out of the way! I believe the final chapter should be out by next Wednesday, so look forwards to that. I actually have an epilogue planned, but I'm unsure of whether or not I'll get it done in time, so we'll just have to see!**

 **As always, please review, favourite and follow if you want, and have a great rest of your day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**After 2 weeks, this is finally finished! I know I had an epilogue planned, but I believed the story was better left off where it is, so please forgive me for that. Otherwise, everything else appears to be in order! All I'm saying for this chapter is Alfred F. Jones, world's best wing-man.**

 **Enjoy!**

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"I'll be in LA for the weekend."

The words appeared suddenly on Gilbert's arm one night as the two were watching TV, black ink scribbled neatly over his skin. Alfred glanced down from the television in surprise. Soon he realized that Gilbert may question his change of focus. Quickly, he returned his gaze towards the screen. Thankfully, the German remained oblivious, completely enraptured by the program on the TV.

After an hour or so, Alfred spared another glance towards his friends arm. Surprisingly, the ink had disappeared. For a moment Alfred was confused, but he soon determined that Matthew must have washed if off from his end. With a smile he returned his gaze to the television.

As he prepared himself for bed that night, Alfred began to think of all the possibilities they had to meet up with Matthew. He realized that there weren't many, seeing as he and Gilbert would usually waste their weekends away without a care in the world. That was going to change tomorrow. Tomorrow, they'd finally meet Matthew, Alfred was sure of it.

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Saturday morning couldn't come fast enough. He was up early, something that he rarely ever was. Breakfast was a quick bowl of cereal and his normal routine was rushed. Soon he was in the car, relentlessly honking at Gilbert to give the German some motivation to _get out of the house._

After what seemed like an eternity, Gilbert finally made his way into the car, grumbling something incoherent, his annoyance obviously plastered onto his face. Alfred remained oblivious, giddy with excitement. Before the German had a chance to close the door, Alfred was already pulling out of the driveway, a flurry of screeching tires and burning rubber as he sped away from the apartment.

For a few blocks they drove in silence, Alfred with a wide smile on his face, and Gilbert's features molded into a frown.

"Could you please explain to me exactly why I had to wake up at the unnatural time of seven o'clock in the goddamn morning?" Gilbert asked, glancing warily at the American beside him.

"I could explain it to you, but I'm not going to." Alfred replied, a playful twinkle in his eyes. Gilbert didn't respond, instead turned his head to the other side, muttering something about current living arrangements and the ease of murder in said arrangements.

The rest of the day consisted of Alfred dragging the unenthusiastic German around town, hoping that one of the many people they would meet could be the one he was looking for. Alfred was mostly met with uncertainty and crushed hopes, but none of that began influencing him. He would drag Gilbert to every single corner of the city if he needed to, anything to find Matthew.

However, as the day grew longer, Alfred grew sure that this had been a terrible idea. Strangely enough, Gilbert finally seemed enthusiastic about the whole thing, returning back to his usual cheery self. Just as Alfred was prepared to throw in the towel, Gilbert suggested they go somewhere to eat. Alfred willingly agreed, allowing Gilbert to drag him to the nearest café just as Alfred had been dragging him around town all morning.

The café was warm, many people milling about inside, the sound of chatter and laughter filling the air. The aroma of bitter coffee was almost completely overtaken by that of sweet chocolate and caramel, creating a medley of scents that made Alfred's mouth water. With instructions from Gilbert, Alfred headed further into the building in search of a table.

After a few minutes, Alfred was finally able to spot one near the back of the restaurant. He made his way towards it, suddenly halting as he drew near. Upon closer inspection, the table was in fact occupied, a kind looking man about Alfred's age curled up in one of the chairs with a book in hand. Seeing as there were no other options and the man looked pleasant enough, Alfred gently tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey! Is it okay if my friend and I sit here with you?" He asked.

The young man's head shot out of the book, his eyes wide with surprise. They were an odd shade of blue, almost appearing violet, though perhaps that was because of the glasses perched upon his nose. Alfred gazed at him for a moment, taking in every feature, from the nervous smile on his lips to the stubborn curl that seemed to fly away from the rest of his hair. After a moment of hesitation, the stranger replied.

"Of course."

Alfred smiled, taking a seat across from the stranger. His eyes flickered towards the man for a moment before he turned his gaze away. Soon however, he began to grow impatient, his toe was tapping against the floor in agitation. What could be taking Gilbert so long?

In an attempt to relieve himself of boredom, Alfred turned to the man sitting across from him. Like it had been before Alfred interrupted, the man's nose was buried in the book once more, his golden blonde hair falling limply beside his face. Alfred considered conversing, but quickly opted out of the idea. The man looked so peaceful, and Alfred was content to watch.

Suddenly, a crash resonated from elsewhere in the shop. Alfred's head shot upwards. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the man's eyes were trained up as well, a look of shock and confusion on his face. Alfred couldn't help but let a smile slip onto his lips.

Another crash soon followed, and Alfred was forced to draw his gaze away. A loud shout rang out from somewhere in the shop, and a familiar voice reached the American's ears. A flash of white hair only confirms his suspicion.

"For what's it's worth, I didn't expect the glass to shatter! Blame the glass for being weak, not me!"

All at once, Gilbert tumbled into his view, a clearly angry shop keeper following shortly behind. Alfred looked at his friend in concern, but soon froze. The shop keeper was almost a foot shorter than Gilbert, and yet the German was looking at his with an expression of pure terror. It took all of Alfred's will power not to burst out laughing.

After a few angry words, Gilbert all but nodding obediently at each statement, the shopkeeper left, still grumbling to himself. Alfred watched, amusement shinning in his eyes as the shorter man storms off. As soon as he rounds the corner, Gilbert collapsed into his seat, sending a glare in Alfred's direction.

"Don't even dare." He hissed.

His voice was rough, filled with authority, so much so that Alfred was slightly shocked. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, a cocky smile on his face, something glinting in his eyes.

"I wouldn't think of it, Mr. I'm terrified of people half my size."

Alfred exclaimed, forcing as much fear as he could into the statement. Gilbert resorted to glaring at the American, a small scowl on his face. After a moment, a smile began to overtake the angry expression, a quiet laugh escaping soon afterwards.

A small rustling sound brings Alfred out of his thoughts, his head twirling to face the source. The man from earlier was staring back at them, a shy smile on his face, his cheeks dusted with red. Though he was obviously uncomfortable, the man managed a small wave, a kind gesture towards the pair.

"You two seemed to be having fun, so I thought I'd just move to another table." The man spoke, though perhaps whispered is a more fitting term. Though quiet, his voice was soft and kind, like a steaming cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter's night, full of innocence and purity. At the sound, Alfred couldn't help but smile.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

Gilbert's confused voice shattered the serene atmosphere. After a moment of thought, Alfred let out an inaudible sound of surprise. Of course! Gilbert hadn't been here before, so obviously this came as quite a confusion

"Yeah, but don't worry. Most people don't notice me, so I'm used to it." The man spoke again a small smile on his face. However, the way his posture dropped and his eyes fell told a different story. Alfred was felt with the strange urge, to comfort the man in front of him, and he quickly spoke up.

"Hey, don't go! You seem like a pretty interesting dude!" He exclaimed.

Downcast violet eyes soon grew bright, expressing a whole new array of emotions that Alfred had never known existed. The small smile that appeared on his face lit up the room, radiating downwards with happiness at such a small gesture. Alfred felt a smile form on his lips as he outstretched his hand towards the man.

"I'm Alfred."

When the man suddenly _froze_ , Alfred payed no mind. He didn't notice those violet eyes become just a little bit wider, and just how shaky that hand was as he shook it. Nor did he pay attention to that hopeful smile that formed on the man's face. However, when the man spoke, Alfred's reaction was almost identical.

"I'm Matthew."

Realization cascaded upon Alfred in a wave, leaving him completely and utterly speechless. After countless weeks of talking with him back and forth, Matthew was finally here. Unintentionally, his gaze drifted towards where Gilbert was sitting, the German completely oblivious to anything out of the ordinary happening between the two of them.

Quickly however, Alfred's hand was replaced with Gilberts, the German shaking with much enthusiasm. Matthew's eyes were wide, as if not wanting to believe that any of this was real. The way his hand shook as Gilbert held it, the way that smile had fallen off his face in an expression of shock.

Matthew knew that the man shaking his hand was his soulmate. Gilbert didn't, and the moment Matthew finally sat down, his gaze was trained on Alfred.

"Do you perhaps have a pen on you?" Matthew asked, any trace of his earlier shy attitude long forgotten. Alfred could only smile, producing the writing implement from the pocket of his bomber jacket.

Quickly, Matthew removed the cap of the pen, bringing its slender body towards his wrist. Gilbert had caught sight of the gesture, his eyebrows raising and a questionable look on his face. Jitters of excitement flew like sparks through Alfred's body. He could not breathe, a look on anticipation engraved onto his features.

A whole world of emotion shone in the depths on Matthew's eyes. His hands were shaking, the tip of the pen frozen like dagger ready to strike. He inhaled, his eyes closing for the briefest of moments. All at once, they flashed open, violet pools shinning with determination.

He drew the pen onto his skin, sliding it across the flesh in a pattern that would soon be mirrored onto that of the man sitting across from him. Nervous energy was pulsing through Alfred's veins as he gazed impatiently at the wrist of his friend. The, he heard the German gasp in surprise.

Scribbled neatly on his wrist, was a small black heart.

Time seemed to slow, and Alfred could only watch as the German's eyes lit up, gazing at Matthew with an emotion Alfred had never seen before. Before either of them could react, Gilbert was out of his seat, wrapping his arms around Matthew and squeezing tight.

Gilbert had never been an emotional one, but now he stood, tears falling from his eyes and a smile made of pure joy upon his lips. Matthew's arms hung limply around the German, a surprised smile on his face and eyes glistening with happiness behind fogged glasses.

"I've finally found you." Matthew whispered, a single tear falling from his eyes.

Alfred had been sitting quietly the whole time, watching with an unreadable expression as the two people he cared about more than anything in the world embraced, emotions flowing between the two like a river. For them, it was the single most important and happiest moment of their lives.

At that moment, Alfred's heart shattered.

Gilbert would be gone soon. He'd move in with Matthew, leaving Alfred alone in the apparent that they had shared. And how could Alfred blame him? Who would want to live with anyone but their soulmate once they had been found?

But for Alfred, that wasn't the worst part.

No, the worst part was Matthew. He'd known him for only few months, finally meeting him just a few moments ago. With his constantly cheerful attitude, Matthew had filled that gaping hole in his heart, if only just a little. Now, he was ripped away, tearing a little bit of Alfred along with him.

That was when Alfred knew. Matthew was never just a friend. No, he was much, much more. He loved Matthew, and that was perhaps the stupidest mistake he had ever made because that love would never be returned.

Matthew was always Gilbert's soulmate, never his.

As the two embraced, smiles upon their faces as their new chapter began, Alfred saw the end of his. Gilbert would soon be gone, taking Matthew away with him, and Alfred would be left alone. He tried to be happy for them, truly he did, but soon they would both leave him behind.

If only things were different.

If only that little heart had appeared on his arm instead of Gilbert's.

If only Matthew was his soulmate.

If only…

* * *

 **And that concludes our little story here! Thank you to everyone who has been following along, and thank you to those who've just clicked the story today! You all make me so happy to see that someone out there enjoys my work. So thanks!**

 **As always, please do review. Constructive criticism, compliments, whatever you want. Reviews really do help and motivate me.**

 **Right now it's pretty pointless to follow the story seeing as it's completed, but there's nothing stopping you from dropping down a like if you want!**

 **With all that said, thank you so much for reading, and have a great rest of your day.**

 **Bye!**


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